


Asylum: Revisited

by dont_hate_me01



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Drama, Established Relationship, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_hate_me01/pseuds/dont_hate_me01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new case at an abandoned mental hospital reopens some tender memories for Dean and Sam a few months after the Roosevelt Asylum incident.  Will this new case split them up forever or will it bring them closer together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fourtenpm](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fourtenpm).



> Athens Hospital For The Insane is now known as The Ridges. Margaret Schilling was a patient at the hospital in 1978 - 1979 and apparently the mark they found where she died is indeed visible. Giovanni Aldini really did use electrical currents on a convicted murderer by the name of George Forster.

**Prologue**

**Athens, Ohio - Athens Hospital For The Insane - 1908**

"Dr Milton," Dr Ivan Jamison greeted the other doctor as they both sidestepped the orderly that run past. Both men could hear the screams down the hall, but neither made any attempt to go and see what the problem might be.

"Dr Jamison, I presume." Gregory Milton took the proffered hand and shook it once. He then wiped his hand clean on the side of his trousers. He hated touching other people, but in his field he didn't have much of a choice.

"Indeed. We have been expecting you since yesterday." Dr Jamison picked up one of the two suitcases that stood at Dr Gregory's feet. "The staff quarters are this way." He indicated to a side door that led to a separate building on the southern side of the grounds. 

Gregory Milton looked at his companion as he followed him to his chambers. The man was at least eight years his junior, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke of experience. "How long have you been here, Doctor?"

"Almost three years." Ivan looked over his shoulder and grinned with a gleam in his eyes that Gregory understood. The look showed malice, something he could relate too. After all, it was the only way to rid people of their insanity; they had to be shocked out of it and cruelty went a far way in achieving that - that and some other even more controversial methods.

"And you love every minute of it." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. 

"Of course, what is there not to love?" Ivan held the door open to the older man. "Your quarters." He pointed to a door further on. "I am just down the hall, the next door."

Gregory nodded his head in appreciation. "Are we on the same shift?"

"We are. You have a few hours to rest. We start at six." Ivan walked away. 

Gregory grinned. He was going to love working here... 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

**5 Years Later**

"No, please, no. Not again!!!" The man struggled against the hold the two doctors had over him. He didn't want to be strapped down on that bed. Bad things happened to him every time he was here. He couldn't help but wonder each and every time why the equipment that stood next to the small examination table didn't look like anything that should be in a hospital. He did however know that it hurt. Francis Kurtz had vague memories of smelling burnt flesh as he continued to struggle and watch as the faces of the two doctors changed into the faces of his deceased siblings, before changing into his mother and father and then into the gruesome disfigured faces that normally plagues his days and nights. He knew they said that it would get better, but it didn't. Instead, the voices had become stronger, urging him on; laughing at him for being a coward, not being able to overpower two men, even though they were both large in size. 

"Calm down, Mister Kurtz, we are only going to help, you know that by now." Gregory smiled as he pushed the man down and started to strap him in. His attention shifted to where Ivan was preparing the conducting rods. He stepped away from the table, not noticing that the strap securing the patient's right wrist was not secured properly. 

Kurtz kept on struggling and smiled as he managed to withdraw his right wrist from the cuff. A strange calmness settled over him. He could hear the ever present voices telling him to get up, to get out, but also to make sure that they didn't get near him again. He looked on as the doctor named Jamison stepped forward with the strange looking device in his hand that always hurt him. He couldn't help but whimper. He waited until the both the doctors were back at his side, before he moved. He took both men by surprise and managed to overpower the one and got the nasty looking rod and jammed it into the doctor's neck with all that he had in him. Blood splattered onto him and the doctor gurgled and went limp in his arms. It took less than a minute. Milton stood stunned and Francis took advantage of the situation and pushed the body forward. Doctor Jamison slumped forward and as Gregory tried to catch his friend, Francis moved forward and started to stab the remaining doctor with the same rod over and over again. He was a large man and as the adrenaline soared through his body, he kept on stabbing and stabbing. The floor was slippery with blood, but it didn't deter him. He didn't see Jamison get up behind him, and he gasped as he got pushed down and something slammed hard into his back. He screamed and tried to move, but found that he couldn't move his lower body. He tried to get the man off him, but with no success. The doctor on top of him was screaming and yelling as well and Francis tried to push upwards but then something slammed down on him again and he could feel the darkness gathering around him as his eyes glazed over. The room went silent. 


	2. Part 1

**Part 1**

**Athens, Ohio - The Ridges, Formally Known As Athens Hospital For The Insane - 2006**

Dean held up his fake FBI badge and then lifted the police tape for Sam to go through first. He refused to look at Sam's ass as his brother walked passed him. Things between them were still rocky after the incident at the Roosevelt Asylum in Illinois a few months back, and even though they were no longer getting two queens at any of the motels they slept at, they were far from kissing and making up. 

They stepped into the room and both brothers grimaced. The scene in front of them was one they did not see often. The initial report spoke of a man electrocuted. What made the boys certain that it was a case for them was the fact that there was no electricity in the room where the death occurred. This part of the hospital was closed for renovations and since the whole building had to be re-wired all the wiring was taken out. 

The man was lying on the floor. His limbs were contorted in such a way that it looked like a spider that was trampled on, his limbs all facing a different direction. Sam cocked his head as he looked at the body. "The body was moved?" He looked around the room and noted the old medical equipment standing around. What made him frown was the fact that the bed and some other pieces were bolted to the floor. 

A man standing next to the body looked over the rim of his spectacles and then grunted in agreement. "You're observant." 

"Goes with the job." Sam stepped closer. "Are you the ME on this case?" He asked and held out his ID for the examiner. 

"I am." The doctor sighed. "In all my years, I've seen nothing like this." He looked away as his assistant came in with the gurney. "I'm amazed that the FBI showed up so soon. I'll be conducting this autopsy tomorrow morning at seven if you want to attend." 

"Thank you." Sam couldn't believe his luck. Normally the examiners did not want them around. He looked on as the doctor helped to load the body onto the gurney and returned his attention to the place where the body was found after they left. There was nothing strange on the floor. _'Where was the body moved from?'_ Sam though as he looked around. He turned and saw Dean taking notes. His discomfort grew as he looked at the way Dean was dressed. He'd managed to get Dean to buy a suit that fitted his body better. The charcoal color brought out the green in Dean's eyes more and the way the soft material hugged Dean's body made him drool with lust. He was amazed that Dean actually wore the suit. Sam cleared his throat hard, now was so not the right time to think of hot steamy sex, especially not after _his_ fuck up. He knew Dean wanted nothing to do with him and they had a job to do. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Dean sighed as he flopped down on the bed. It had been a long day. While Sam conducted interviews he took their EMF meter and walked around the grounds - it was larger than what he initially thought. It took him over three hours to cover the whole property. He didn't even cover the cemetery, knowing that it would light up like a Christmas tree. He was not surprised to find that the EMF meter lit up with every step he took where he did search. Asylums were notorious for being filled with malignant spirits. What interested him the most was the fact that even though they had a _hotspot_ where the body was found, there was another one - even bigger - a few buildings over. He still had no idea what part of the asylum that was; he'd have to look at the blue prints for more info. 

Dean looked at his watch. Sam had texted him and said that he'd be bringing dinner, so Dean knew he would be gone for a while longer. Dean stretched and stood up; turning Sam’s laptop on, he took a seat at the table. For a moment he fingered the keys, thinking about pranking Sam, but decided against it. He was in no mood for a sulking Sam. He brought up the blue prints to the asylum and checked the out buildings. "That's weird." Dean made double sure of his facts and then started a secondary search. He frowned as he let his fingers type in the information he needed. "Why would there be a hotspot of activity in the medical personnel's quarters?" He shook his head as the question to himself remained unanswered. "Where the hell is the geeky one when you need him?" Dean mumbled as his search results stayed at zero. Dean closed the window and enlarged the blue print again. The building where the body was found was a ward for male patients and not the building where most of the treatment procedures took place and nothing made sense. "Fuck this." Dean closed the laptop as yet another search turned up blank. Geek boy just had to come and do his thing. He had no idea where to search for hospital records for employees. He would help with the research again when Sam found something more. 

Thinking of Sam, Dean lifted his head as the door to their room opened up. Sam's arms were filled with bags of food and beer and Dean grinned. Their road may still be rocky, but at least Sam had not forgotten about the beer. 

"A little help, Dean." Sam held out his arms and at the same time used his foot to close the door behind him. 

"Sure," Dean reached for the beer and placed it on the table in front of him. He ignored Sam's sigh as his brother walked towards the kitchenette and deposited the rest of the bags here. 

"What did you find?" Dean opened two bottles and took a swig from his. 

"Dead guy's name is Roland North. Age thirty, a construction worker. Single. Other than that, nothing much. I did some research on the hospital, to see if there was anything that could have set this off, up to now, nothing. Only thing I found was several articles of a patient by the name of Margaret Schilling who got lost in an abandoned section for more than a month. When she was found she was already decomposing and a mark remained on the spot that's apparently still visible today. They tried to clean it up, but nothing worked." 

Dean rolled his eyes at the information. "There must be something else." Dean frowned as he looked on while Sam emptied the bags. All that came out could be described as being healthy food. 

"I've got interviews lined up after the autopsy tomorrow with the next of kin. Hopefully I'll find something then." He took out the last container and passed it to Dean without bothering to take it out. 

Dean grinned as the smell of meat and onions filled his nose. "Burger? "Thanks," he smiled as he opened the container and took out a large burger. "Dude, where did you get this?" It was one of the biggest burgers he'd seen in a long time. 

"Place across from the police precinct." Sam took his seat across from Dean. "What do you have?" 

"Umn," Dean had to swallow before he could answer. "Found some hotspots all over the place." He shrugged. "Given that it's a loony bin it doesn't surprise me. Also didn't go near the cemetery. Got surprised by the fact that there's a large hotspot at the physicians' quarters. I tried to look for personnel records, but had no luck." 

Sam frowned. "That is strange.” He took another bite of his salad and then turned the laptop to face him. His fingers moved over the keys and then he sat back. "Don't see any reference made to any violent deaths in the quarters, but I'll have to broaden the search to make sure." 

Dean wiped his hands on his jeans. "You do that, I'm taking a shower." He wanted to invite Sam, but decided against it; instead he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He couldn't help but think back on what had happened the last time they were at a mental institution. 

_' So what are you gonna do, huh? Are you gonna kill me?'_ He'd asked the question, but didn't expect the answer he'd received; being accused of telling Sam what to do, of not wanting to find their Dad. 

_' Well then, here. Let me make it easier for you.'_ He'd handed his pistol to Sam. _'Come on. Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt.'_ When Sam hesitated, he yelled and Sam took the weapon. 

Dean could still see the look in Sam's face when Sam pointed the Smith & Wesson at his face. 

_'You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!'_

Dean could still hear the _click_ , _click_ , as Sam pulled the trigger. He could still feel the shock passing through his fist into his arm as he punched Sam to the ground before he struggled to get up on his own. "Fuck," Dean's hands shook as he dragged them across his face. Now was not the time to think about that. They had a case to work, his head needed to be in the game. He stripped and stepped under the warm spray and hoped that by the time the water tempered off he'd had his head in the right place. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Sam watched as Dean retreated to the bathroom. He knew what Dean was thinking about - it was the same as his own thoughts. He could still remember going down to the boiler room. The cold hands that snaked around his head and then the raged that filled him up. He could remember Dean asking him if he was going to shoot him, telling him the gun was filled with rock salt and that it wasn't going to kill him. It was his answer that made him shiver - _'No. But it will hurt like hell.'_

He could remember Dean lying on the floor, gasping for breath, standing over him. Dean told him that they had to burn Ellicott's bones and that he'd be normal again. 

Sam didn't mean what he said, but the words spilled from his mouth nonetheless. _'I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? ’Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little solider? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?'_

_'This isn't you talking, Sam.'_

_'That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you.'_

And then he shot Dean. He shot his brother. He tried to kill him and would've succeeded if the pistol was loaded - it wasn't. He understood why Dean hated him, he hated himself. Sam stood abruptly and walked towards the kitchenette when the bathroom door opened. He kept his back to Dean, wanting to get his emotions under control. 

"You going to attend the autopsy tomorrow morning?" Dean asked quietly. 

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it starts at seven." He indicated to the laptop. "I'll make sure you got the employee files so that you can start cross referring them to murders or unexplained deaths. It will keep you busy for a while, unless you want to join me?" 

Dean snorted. "No, you know I hate that smell, I'll be doing the drone work on this one." 

Sam nodded again. "I'm going to hit the shower." 

"Sure." Dean only looked up from where he was hunched over his duffel when Sam closed the door behind him. "We're fucked up." He turned the blanket down and got into bed. He would be faking sleep when Sam got out and Sam would not call him out on it. It'd been part of their lives for the past few months, and it didn't look like it was going to end soon. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

**Following Morning - ME's Office**

Sam listened as the ME's voice droned on. He'd already got the information what he needed, but knowing that the real FBI would stay until the autopsy had been completed Sam stayed put. He couldn't seem to keep his thoughts to the present; they kept on going back to Illinois. He still had no idea why he'd said those words. He couldn't think of any situation where he would tell Dean that he was pathetic. There was no chance in hell that he'd use Ellicott as an excuse for his behavior. Dean had every right in the world to hate him, but Sam hated himself more. He'd already decided to go away, as soon as this case had been finalized. Dean didn't deserve to be burdened with him. 

After what felt like a lifetime, the ME finished up and Sam got the opportunity to excuse himself. He wanted to go to the library and check up on something. A comment by the ME had made him think, and if his thoughts were right, they might have a lead. "Dean," Sam sighed as he left the voice message on Dean's phone. "I think I have a lead, I'm going to the library to check it out. I'll meet up with you later." He shut his phone and started to walk towards the main part of town where the library was located. He found the section he was looking for fairly quickly and pulled some of the thick volumes down and headed to an empty table. He got immersed in what he was reading and he made notes as he read on. Sam began to realize that the root of their problem was indeed in the physicians' quarters. He placed the books back where he found them and made his way out of the building. It was only when he got outside and saw that it was almost dark that he realized just how long a time he had spent in the library. But he knew with all of the information he gathered, he wouldn't have to come back again. The rest of the research could be done on the laptop, even finding the hospital personnel files. It was confirmed by the librarian that the hospital's records were indeed computerized so he knew Dean would've been able to work through it with the parameters he set up. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Dean's knees cracked as he stood up. The life of a hunter was a hard one, and even though he was only twenty eight years old, he could feel his body protesting about what they did on a daily basis. He glanced at the notes he made, and he struggled not to shiver at what he'd found. It was disturbing to think that the medical profession could treat people in such a way. Lobotomy practices were an everyday occurrence in the 1940's, through the 1950's. It scared him to think that a physician could drill a hole into your scalp and then surgically sever the nerve pathways in the lobe of the brain from other areas, using crude instruments like an ice pick and a mallet. It was supposedly used as a _radical therapeutic measure_ to cure mentally disturbed patients. Dean didn't even want to think about the _shock therapy_ , that one always made him want to run. From what he gathered it was nothing different at the mental hospital. He picked up his phone and frowned as he saw that he had one missed call, originating from Sam. He didn't even hear his phone ring. He listened to the message and closed the phone. It seemed like he would have a few hours to kill before Sam returned. He picked up the Impala's keys and his wallet. He could do with a few drinks. 

Dean made his way across town where he'd seen a bar which looked like a good place when they first entered the town. He parked closed to the entrance and sauntered in. The place was remarkably clean and a few patrons were seated at the bar while most of the tables itself were still empty. He made his way over to the bar, ordered what was on tap, as well as a double Jack - which he downed in one gulp, and then settled in. Dean kept to himself and grinned as a few guys walked in and started to gather around the pool table. Dean turned in his seat and watched as they played. His hands itched to play a game or two and since they were running low on cash he casually made his way over and waited for the game to end. Dean wasn't even sure if it would be necessary for him to hustle, the standard of play that he saw was not very high. He was confident that on talent alone he'd be able to win. Soon Dean got lost in the game and didn't notice how the time had passed; only when he looked at his phone did he notice the time. "Shit," Dean frowned. Sam most likely had shit kittens by now due to the lateness of the hour. 

"Gotta go, boys." Dean grinned as he picked his winning off from the table. It was a good night, and he was almost five hundred up. He laughed as the young men called him back, just shook his head and made his way out of the bar. When he got into his car he realized that he only had about three beers through the whole evening, and he felt totally relaxed. "See, some down time is always good." Dean mumbled to himself as he started the Impala and drove back to the motel. His stomach growled and he hoped Sam had picked up something to eat. Dean smiled as he thought about Sam. He's been giving Sam grief since the asylum incident and although it was still difficult to understand what Sam had done, he knew it was time to patch things up between them. He would start tonight. With that thought he made a turn at the block before their motel and went to an all-night diner where he picked up something sweet for the both of them. Hopefully that would help to start smoothing things over. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Sam looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, and yet Dean didn't magically appear in the door. He knew he was late in returning to the room, but he was ready to apologize, instead he found the room void with any sign of Dean and he accepted it, until it became three hours later and still Dean didn't show up. Sam didn't even think of trying to call the other man, he was not willing to be shouted at because Dean would say Sam would think of him as a child. Instead he started to pace the room. He hated his long legs; it meant that he only took seven steps across before he had to turn back again, only for another seven steps to bring him to a halt again. 

He looked over at the information he gathered from the web after he returned to the room. With what Dean had found, he was able to narrow their search down to two doctors. He had no idea where Dean was, as usual his older brother had left without leaving a note and with him being too stubborn to call he had no idea when Dean would return. "Well, if I want to get out of Dean's hair as soon as possible, then I have to solve this case as soon as possible." Sam talked to himself as he gathered the scribbles he made and pulled on his jacket. Not caring to leave a note - just as Dean has done, Sam exited the room. 

Not having the Impala to drive to the asylum, Sam flagged down a taxi, thinking that this would only be a _scouting mission_ to see if the information he gathered was indeed right. As the cab made its way over to the hospital, the cabby not even lifting an eyebrow at Sam's request, Sam looked at his notes again. He had found an obscured little article in a newspaper of 1913 that noted in passing the demised of two of its physicians, and it was the first thing that made Sam sit up and take notice. The article described their deaths as tragic - an accident. It made Sam search deeper and then he discovered that there was a patient by the name of Francis Kurtz that was admitted to the institute at the end of 1912. By what Sam could gather was that mister Kurtz had some severe mental issues and his primary physician was a doctor by the name of Ivan Jamison. It seemed that the good doctor believed in some extreme treatment procedures - including the practice of Giovanni Aldini; who used electrical currents on his patients, which made the headlines when he used the currents on corpses, in particular on the executed murderer George Forster. He had applied conducting rods to Forster's rectum, making the deceased kick and flinch. The rods were applied to dead man's face which made it quiver and the left eye pop open. 

Sam shivered as he recalled the details; there were so many similarities between this case and the happenings at the Roosevelt Asylum in Illinois. The only difference between the two cases was that this time he would not fuck up. He would show Dean that his brother could depend on him; that he was trustworthy. 

He looked down at the notes again. It seemed that Doctor Jamison, assisted by Doctor Gregory Milton, had some lengthy _treatment_ sessions with Kurtz when the patient on one such occasion managed to overpower the doctors and kill them. The article didn’t elaborate on how they were killed, but Sam had a feeling he knew how that had happened. All three men had died on the scene. 

As the cab came to a halt, Sam took out some crumpled up notes, passed them to the driver and climbed out. It took Sam about five minutes to walk to the building where the strange death occurred. He made sure that there were no guards around before he entered the building. He had a feeling that with what he had read, things only had come to a conclusion there, but that the crux of the case lay within the other building. He held the short barrel shotgun with the salt rounds against his side as he started walking through the rooms one by one. He knew that the investigating officers had swept all of the rooms for any evidence after each murder and came up with nothing, but there had to be something. 

Sam made a quick sweep of the first room and then walked further into the building. It was eerie quiet. He reached for the EMF meter, only to remember that it was in the Impala. He could do nothing about it now, so he pushed forward. After completing the search of the first building he pulled out a blue print of the floor plans and noted the quarters of both Jamison and Milton were in the next building. Sam stepped out of the first building and made his way to the physicians' quarters. He made his way to Milton's room first and stepped in. The room was no larger than a dorm room; the wooden floors creaked underneath his boots. There were some interesting stains and marks on the floor, but nothing that could aid Sam in solving this puzzle so he left the room. He made his way down the corridor and stepped into Jamison's room. It was a mirror image of the previous room and Sam realized that he wasn't going to find anything there. He decided to make his way deeper into the building to where Dean had found the second hot spot. It was strange that there was a treatment room inside the doctors' quarters, but they could've run out of space and decided to put the extra treatment room here. Dean had told him about the fact that it was a room filled with old equipment so Sam had some ideas about what to look for. He kept his gun ready and slowly searched room for room. "Bingo," Sam whispered as he found the room with the equipment. The room was dark and Sam used his flashlight to look into the room. It smelled musty and he sneezed. Making sure that his shotgun was loaded, he stepped further into the room. He looked in utter horror at the old dilapidated equipment that was scattered around. It was clear that this was the room Milton and Jamison conducted their _treatments_ on patients. Sam now also understood why the hospital made sure that the two doctors' death remained low key. If the public had found out about what had happened in this room, the institution would've been closed down immediately. Sam could see the board of the hospital panicking and just closing this room up, no other treatments ever performed here again. 

Unfortunately they didn't think of all of the horror that had occurred through the hands of the so called doctors. He looked around and cursed as the temperature dropped, and before he could lift the gun, he was thrown across the room. Sam landed with a grunt against the opposite wall and got flung aside again. Two ghosts appeared within seconds before him and Sam shivered at the cold spot. He tried to get away from the spirits, but the grip they had on him was too strong. The one man weighed at least thirty pounds more than Sam and was about two inches taller as well. The other man was about Dean's size. Sam knew he had to get out of here or he would die in the same way Kurtz had died. Sam could do nothing more than watch as the larger of the two men picked him up and slammed his body down hard on the small bed. Both the spirits stood by his side as he struggled up. Sam looked across the room, he had lost the shotgun when he was first thrown across the floor, and knew that without the gun he had a very slim chance of getting out of there alive. 

"You need to calm down; we're going to help you." The one doctor with a gaping wound to his neck addressed him. 

"You can't help me, you're dead." Sam managed to spit out, but it was clear that the two men were not listening to him. He tried to get up, but the ghost's hold over him was too strong. He kept on struggling as the first doctor leaned over him and Sam saw the flashback of Ellicott's hands gripping into his skull and whispering, _'Don't be afraid. I'm going to help you. I'm going to make you all better,'_ before everything had gone blank and he woke up with Dean hunkering over him after he had tried to shoot him. Sam screamed out of frustration and yanked hard on the hold that kept him down. He had to get free and out of here. Sam turned his head and saw something that gave him hope. Sam had no idea what it was doing in this room, but he knew that if he could get to that rusted poker iron, he could get them away for a few seconds until he could get to the shotgun. 

Sam struggled and looked on as the second doctor approached the bed. He had no idea what was going to happen next, but had a feeling that it would hurt. He yanked hard again, but couldn't free himself. 

"Hold still, this won't hurt." The doctor moved forward and just as he wanted to touch Sam another drop in the temperature occurred and Sam gasped as another apparition appeared. For a moment Sam thought that it might be another tormentor, but then looked on in surprise as the third spirit turned on the doctor that was still holding him down and started to attack him. Sam had never seen ghosts fight with one another, but he knew he had to take the chance given to him and he leaped from the narrow bed. The second doctor got hold of him and yanked him backwards, and Sam skidded to the side. He tried to move away, but his body was bruised from the previous round and he struggled to get away. He fought hard and at the same time he eyed the poker that was just beyond his outstretched hand. He screamed as a cold hand wrapped around his neck and started to squeeze the breath out of him. Sam tried to pry the hand from his throat, but already dark spots were clouding his vision. Sam twisted and bucked and slowly managed to get closer to the poker. He could feel the rod at the tip of his fingers and with a last attempt his fingers curled around the rod and he grabbed hold of it and swung it towards the doctor that was strangling him. 

The surprised yell and the rush of air into his lungs made Sam realized that he'd managed to connect the rusted iron with the body of the ghost. He gasped at the fresh air and started to get up from the floor. The other two spirits had also disappeared. Sam had no idea where they had gone, but he knew he had to get out of here. He had managed to get to his feet and make his way to the door when the two ghosts appeared in front of him again. He swung the poker he had with him, and caught the one, making the doctor screech before disappearing in thin air. He turned around to hit the second spirit, but the doctor was fast and Sam only managed to swing into nothing. Sam turned again; the doctor was coming up on him fast. Sam stepped backwards and stumbled over a piece of wood that once belonged to a chair. He tumbled backwards and lost the grip he had on the poker, making it skid away from him. As he landed on the floor the crazy doctor was on top of him. He tried to move away but became dizzy and that was when the spirit grabbed hold of him and lifted him back on to the table. Even before he could struggle the first ghost was back and Sam roared out in pain as something like electricity ripped through his body. He had no idea where the current came from, but even before he could even think of how it was possible, it happened again and again. Sam tried to fight, try to move away, but his body refused to obey any of his commands. His vision turned black and just before he lost consciousness, he saw the third spirit appearing before him. The ghost shrieked in anger and as Sam's eyes closed he could see the spirit fighting with the tow doctors again. He had no idea what happened next. 


	3. Part 2

**Part 2**

Dean frowned as he entered the motel room and discovered it was empty. "Sam, Sammy?" Dean called out as he walked towards the small bathroom only to find it empty as well. "What the fuck?" Dean looked around again as if it was possible to have missed Sam being in the room with him. "Where the hell are you?" Dean grumbled as he pulled out his phone and hit Sam's number. "Damnit, Sam, where are you?" Dean practically shouted into the phone as Sam's voice message service picked up. He ended the call and started to look around in the room. It was clear that Sam did come to the room after Dean had left. The laptop was placed differently and Dean's notes were shifted to the side. Dean opened the laptop even as a dreaded feeling settled low in his stomach. His senses were screaming at him that Sam was in danger and Dean knew he had to find his brother quickly. "Where did you go to, Sammy?" He opened up the search history on the laptop and looked at the last entries. All the entries had to do with doctors named Milton and Jamison and by the look of things they had worked at the very hospital that was now the scene of one gruesome death. He also found an article that Sam had looked up on the practices of the two doctors in question. Dean could only shake his head. 

"Damnit, Sam. Let me guess, you went to the hospital on your own. So fucking stubborn," Dean mumbled as he grabbed the Impala's keys and headed out of the room. "If you get hurt Sammy, I'm so going to kick your ass." Dean turned the car's nose in the direction of the hospital and floored the gas. He had to go and rescue the one person in life that meant more to him than his own life. 

Dean reached the abandoned hospital in less than ten minutes and parked quickly on the side of the building. He grabbed the gear out of the trunk and looked at the two buildings in front of him. He had no idea where to start looking. He looked at the building that housed the physicians’ quarters and then at the building where the body was found. "Let's hope I'm right," Dean spoke to himself as he headed into the building where the body was found. "Sam!" Dean started to yell the moment he stepped through the doors. "Sam," he yelled again as he began his search. Dean rounded the corner and he gasped at the scene in front of him. "Sam!" He run forward and slid to his knees next to the prone body of his brother and lover. "Sammy," Dean crouched next to Sam and gently shook his shoulders. His brother was covered in abrasions and bruises. He had a nasty bump just behind his left ear as Dean examined him from head to toe. 

"What the fuck happened, Sammy?" Dean kept on talking as he made sure Sam suffered from no broken bones. He scowled at the angry red and purple marks around Sam's throat. "Let me guess, our not so friendly ghost got a hold of you. Why do they always go for the throat?" Dean wanted nothing more than to scoop Sam up and get him back to the motel room and place some ice on the bruised neck. He knew Sam's throat could swell up, making it difficult to breath, but first he had to get Sam to wake up. 

"Come on, Sammy, time to wake up. Sam," Dean used his knuckles to rub it hard on Sam's sternum. Immediately he was rewarded as Sam groaned and tried to push his hand away. "Open your eyes, Sam and I'll stop." Dean rubbed his knuckles on the bone again and smiled as Sam managed to open his eyes. "You with me?" 

"Dean?" Sam was groggy and tried to get up. 

"Easy, babe, just lie still for a moment and get your bearings before you try to get up.” He gently wiped Sam's long hair out of his face. "You really need me to cut this a bit shorter, you're beginning to look like a girl again." He smiled as Sam rolled his eyes at him and it eased the sinking feeling that had settled in Dean’s chest. If Sam could roll his eyes at him, it meant that he would be all right. 

"Can you tell me what happened?" Dean asked as he tilted Sam's head so that he could check Sam's pupils with his flash light for any sign of a concussion. 

Sam hissed and tried to pull his head away as the light stung his eyes. "Hurts," he mumbled as he brought his hand up to his head. 

Dean had seen Sam enough times in his life suffering from a concussion to know that this time it was one of those times. "Yeah, I imagine that it hurts. You've got yourself a concussion, Sammy. What happened?" Dean wanted to be angry and upset, but seeing Sam on the floor like this only brought his protective side out full force. 

Sam slowly looked around him and frowned. The pounding in his head made it difficult to remember, but he could've sworn that this was not the place he was in the last time he was on his feet. "Where am I?" He tried to get up again and huffed as Dean managed to push him down. 

"Stay down," Dean admonished Sam. "What's the last thing you remember?" 

Sam frowned. It was difficult to bring up any memories with his brains trying to climb out of his skull through his eyes. "Not sure." He groaned as the nausea pushed up into his throat. "Sick," he mumbled and was grateful for the fact that Dean helped him turn onto his side before he started to heave hard. 

"Easy, Sammy." Dean kept Sam on his side until he was sure that Sam was done vomiting before he took a bottle of water out of his pocket. "Rinse first and then take a few sips. Not too much," he cautioned. 

Sam groaned as the cool water coated his throat and took away the taste of bile he could taste. "Thank you," he sighed and started to close his eyes. He was so tired. 

"No, Sammy, stay awake." Dean barked out the order as he saw Sam wanted to close his eyes. "You know the drill. Keep awake for my, Sammy." 

"Mm," Sam nodded his head and opened his eyes again. "Sorry." 

"No need to be sorry, just stay with me. Can you tell me what had happened?" Dean moved in behind Sam, making his brother lean with his back against his chest. He first had to find out what had happened and even though he knew that they may not have much time, he wanted to make sure Sam could move before he would drop him off at the Impala to go and take care of whatever it was that still needed to be killed and sent to hell. 

Sam frowned. He loved lying against Dean's chest like this, but he also knew that there was something he had to tell Dean, something important, but the memory just stayed beyond his reach. He shook his head. "Can't remember, everything is just a blank." He tried again to get up, he had to pace. Pacing always worked for him. 

"Stay where you are," Dean took his arm and placed it across Sam's chest, holding Sam to his chest. "What's the last thing you remember?" 

Sam sighed and stayed put. "Mm, you were not in the room when I got there." Sam frowned. "I found something out," he shook his head. "Can't remember what it was." 

"Doctors Milton and Jamison?" Dean asked. 

Sam nodded his head and then groaned at the movement. "Yes, the crazy doctors." He took a sip of the water Dean held out to him. "Thanks," he closed his eyes for a second but opened them up again, as Dean's hand tapped him across the chest. "Not going to sleep." 

"You better not. What happened?" Dean urged Sam on. He made sure his shotgun was next to him. He frowned. "Where's your gun?" 

Sam frowned. "What gun?" He looked around. "Doctors' quarters." He frowned again. "I was in the doctors' quarters, not here." 

"How did you end up here?" Dean asked in concerned. 

Sam closed his eyes and then they snapped open. "He saved me, he brought me here." 

"Who saved you, Sammy, who are you talking about?" 

"Francis Kurtz," Sam turned his head and caught Dean's gaze. "He saved me..." 

_Sam woke up as he felt himself being moved. He groaned and shivered, and then moaned as he was jolted against something hard._

_"I beg your pardon, sir. I did not mean to hurt you."_

_The voice was soft spoken and Sam lifted his head and it felt like the blood drained from his face. It was the third ghost that was carrying him. He knew he had to stay calm. "Who are you?"_

_The man smiled as he came to a halt and lowered Sam to the floor. "My name is Francis Kurtz, sir. May I enquire your name, please?"_

_Sam couldn't help but to respond. "Sam, Sam Winchester."_

_"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, are you perhaps family of Oliver Winchester or one of his children?"_

_Sam shook his head. It hurt and he couldn't think straight. "I'm not sure."_

_Kurtz shrugged his shoulders. "It does not matter, do not worry about it." He stood up and paced the room. "I am sorry that they hurt you, I did try to stop them."_

_Sam tried to sit up, but the room swayed and he lay back again. He looked around and then realized where he was. "It was you who placed the body here last night."_

_Francis lowered his head. "Yes, it was me. I tried to help, but I failed. I am sorry for his demise."_

_Sam wanted to ask, but he had no idea how the ghost was going to react to the question. He cleared his throat. "May I ask you a question, please?"_

_The ghost nodded his head. "You may."_

_"You do know that you're no longer alive?" Sam closed his eyes, not wanting to see when the ghost decided to attack him. He opened his eyes as he heard the spirit sighed._

_"I am aware of this. I have to say it came as quite a shock when I could not manage to open a door, but could walk through a wall. It took me hours to be able to touch any solid objects." He shook his head. "I can remember what they did to me and I thought that I was at peace but then I woke up and they were there and I knew they were not done."_

_Sam thought about what the spirit told him. It seemed like something was disturbed and that's why the ghosts started to haunt. "Do you know why you awoke?"_

_Kurtz nodded his head. "The treatment room was opened up and something removed. It woke them up - they were so angry. It woke me up and I had to help."_

_"The man of last night, was he the one who removed something?" Sam frowned. His head ached, but he couldn't remember seeing anything out of the ordinary when he went through the man's effects at the police station._

_"It was him indeed. I tried to get it back, but I could not find it. It needs to be found. It is the only way to stop them."_

_"I have to ask, why are they not here?" Sam looked around in the room._

_"I do not know. I just know that they cannot follow me here."_

_Sam nodded his head. "Whatever was moved still has to be in that building. We need to find it and destroy it." His eyes felt heavy, the drums played hard behind his eyes and he knew he was going to pass out soon. He groaned and looked up at the spirit who stood in front of him. "I'll need your help."_

_Frances nodded. "I will help, but I need a favor from you as well. Will you please make sure that I am at peace afterwards?"_

_"You know of hunters?"_

_"I do. Daemons killed my family. Hunters rescued me. It is the daemons fault that I became crazy. I just want to rest."_

_"I'm sorry to hear that. I will make sure you're at rest," Sam promised. He tried to stifle a groan as the pain spiked through his skull. He was dimly aware that Kurtz was talking to him, but he no longer could hear as his eyes closed and he was dumped into darkness again._

Sam looked up at Dean. "We have to find it, we have to make sure Kurtz gets the peace he deserves." 

"We will, Sammy. We will. But first I need to get you to the car." Dean could see how much Sam was struggling to stay awake. He would make sure Sam was all right first and then he would come and take care of their haunting doctors' problem. "I'm going to get up and them I'm going to help you up. Don't try and do anything on your own, you will fall on your face if you do that." Dean got to his feet, and slowly pulled Sam to his feet. He grabbed hold of Sam as his brother swayed dangerously. "Easy, babe." He steadied Sam and then slowly made his way with Sam leaning against him out of the room. 

"Do you know where you ghostly friend is?" Dean asked as they approached the Impala. He opened the passenger door and helped Sam inside. 

Sam shook his head. "Not sure." He smacked his lips together. "Thirsty." 

"Here you go, not too much," Dean held the water and made sure Sam took only some small sips. 

"Thanks," Sam sighed and leaned back against the seat. 

Dean moved around to the back of the Impala and opened the trunk. He removed a bag of salt and some other items before he returned to Sam's side. He took Sam's phone and called his own number and placed the phone in Sam's hand. Hi own phone was ringing in his back pocket. "I want you to keep on talking to me, don't fall asleep." He placed his hand under Sam's chin and lifted his brother's face. "Do you hear me?" He waited until Sam nodded before he leaned in and kissed Sam deep. He couldn't remember the last time they shared such a tender kiss. "We'll talk when this hunt is done." Dean kissed Sam again and then moved away and at the same time he answered his phone. "You with me, Sammy?" 

"Dean," Sam sounded confused. 

"Right here, buddy. You stay put and don't fall asleep on me." Dean ordered as he moved towards the haunted building. "How does your friend look like, I don't think it would do me any good if I shot him full of rock salt." 

Sam frowned. "What friend?" 

Dean couldn't help but to sigh. He hated it when Sam was concussed; his brother always became very confused and it was difficult to keep Sam to focus on what was important. Like in this instance, to stay awake and to describe how Kurtz looked like. "Kurtz, the friendly ghost. What does he look like?" 

"Mm," Sam had to think hard. "Big, he's big. Dressed in some or other hospital gown, not sure. But he's big." 

Dean had to roll his eyes. "Okay, Sammy. I've got it. He's big." He could only hope that the other two ghosts were not big. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he stepped into the building. He had his phone pressed to his ear and the shotgun pointed forward. 

"Tired," Sam's voice slurred over the phone. 

"You keep awake, Sam. You hear me?" Dean hastened his pace. The sooner he found what they needed the better. Not that he knew what he was looking for, but he could only hope he'd recognized it when he saw it. "Sam, answer me," Dean barked as Sam didn't answer him. 

"Dean?" Sam looked around as he heard his brother's voice. He looked at the phone and placed it back against his ear. "Dean?" He asked for the second time. 

"I'm here, Sam. You need to stay awake, okay?" 

"Okay." Sam looked around and shivered as the temperature dropped around him. He gasped as someone appeared next to him. "Who are you?" 

The ghost cocked his head. "It seems like you are more injured than what I thought. I am Francis Kurtz." 

"Yes, I remember. You're the ghost." 

Dean wanted to scream out of frustration when he heard Sam talked to someone, but he couldn't hear the other person over the phone. "Sam! Sammy!" He shouted to get Sam's attention back on him. 

"Dean?" Sam pressed the phone to his ear as he stared at the ghostly figure in front of him. 

"Who are you talking to, Sam?" Dean asked as he stepped into the next room. It was clear of any objects and he moved on. 

"To Kurtz, he's here." Sam dragged his hand over his face. He just wanted to sleep; he knew that if he could get some sleep his headache would go away. 

"What?" Dean wanted to panic. The ghost may have been friendly, but he still didn't trust anything that didn't breathe of bled when you shot or stabbed it. 

"He's here." Sam repeated his answer. 

"Well, tell him to get over here, I could need his help." Dean hissed as he stepped into the treatment room and the temperature dropped fast. He raised the shotgun and as the first apparition appeared he pulled the trigger. The ghost shrieked and disappeared. "One down," Dean mumbled as the second ghost appeared and he pulled the trigger again. "Sam! Do you hear me; tell him to get over here!" 

Sam jerked the phone away from his ear as the blast of the gunshot vibrated in his ear. "Dean?" He looked at the ghost and remembered. "Francis, you need to go and help my brother Dean. He's at the treatment room." 

"He will not hurt me?" Kurtz asked. 

Sam shook his head and regretted his action almost immediately. "He will not hurt you. He knows what you look like. Please help him." Sam remembered something else. If they wanted to get rid of the malice spirits forever they still had to do a salt and burn as well. It would take too long for Dean to do everything by himself. He also had to make sure Kurtz got his peace. "Go and help, Dean." He looked at his watch, the time blurred and he had to check it again to make sure of the correct time. "Tell him I'm going to the cemetery. Tell him I will take care of Milton and Jamison on that side." He struggled to get out of the car and smiled as the ghost gave him a helping hand. "Thanks," he looked at the dead man. "Go, please." He watched as the ghost nodded once and then disappeared. 

Sam struggled to stay upright. With some difficulty he managed to make his way to the trunk of the car and he searched for the items that he would need. He filled up his rucksack and then headed to the cemetery. The graveyard was covered in darkness - as usual, and Sam made his way very slowly to the western end of the cemetery, where he had found out most of the hospital's personnel was buried. With his flashlight Sam walked through the rows of headstones. He found the two graves next to one another, nearly at the end. 

Sam chucked his rucksack to the side after he pulled out some items that he would need. Sam used the ingredients he grabbed from the Impala's trunk and quickly prepared the hex bags. He had to make sure that they couldn't return to their graves until he was ready to deal with them. He was aware of the fact that by placing the hex bags at the graves he was making Dean's work harder, but he had no choice. He took the shovel he dragged along and started to dig up Milton's grave. It was at a slow pace, his head protesting his actions every time he pushed the shovel into the earth or as he heaved it over his shoulder to dig the soil out. It felt to Sam as if it took an eternity before he managed to open the first grave and he still had one left. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He had ended the call with Dean when he started the trip to the cemetery. He knew Dean was fighting the mad doctors and that he had no time to make sure Sam was all right. It was on Sam's own shoulders to make sure he was awake. He ignored the call for now and started on the second grave. He knew Dean would chew him out later, but that he would handle then, not now. After the second grave was open, Sam douched the two skeleton remains with salt, lighter fluid and then phoned Dean back. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

"Damnit, Sammy, why aren't you answering your phone?" Dean yelled as he jumped to the side when one of the doctors launched at him. He had cursed up a storm when he'd realized that Sam had dropped the call and since then he had tried to get hold of Sam, but each time his call went unanswered. He had found the item that was removed from the room, it was lying across the hall, just on the inside of the doorway. At first Dean had thought nothing of it, until he saw the faint roll mark on the floor which was caused by the rod like instrument after it must've fallen out of North's pocket when he was attacked by the two crazy doctors. 

Dean managed to raise the shotgun and fired off another shot. Even as the ghost disappeared he reached for more shells of ammo. He loaded the weapon with ease and scrambled to his feet. There was no way that he would be able to destroy the rod, the material it was made of would not melt in a normal grave fire, instead he could only hope that if he used holy water on the rod that it would get rid of any DNA left on it from the doctors and help break the bond they had with the weird looking instrument. 

He had to get back to his backpack which he had lost along the way as he played dodge with the ghosts. He moved towards the door and turned around as the temperature dropped again, his finger curled around the trigger when the apparition came into existence and Dean saw that it wasn't one of the two doctors. "Kurtz?" he asked as he kept his finger on the trigger. 

"Yes, my name is Francis Kurtz. Are you the brother to Sam Winchester?" 

Dean rolled his eyes. The man talked so formal. "Yes, Sam's big brother." He saw the man raise an eyebrow but cut the question he knew was coming short. "Older brother, okay." 

The man bowed his head slowly and then disappeared. Dean wanted to comment on his rudeness when the temperature dropped yet again and again he readied himself. When the three figures appeared, Dean knew it was time to act. It looked like Kurtz was taking care of distracting the two doctors so Dean hurried across the floor and grabbed the holy water. He took the rod and poured the water all over it. It sizzled and fizzed and Dean could hear the two doctors shriek. "Well that worked," now he had to get through to Sam and get him to salt and burn those skeletons. He shivered as a ghost appeared next to him, but found that it was the friendly one. "Thanks," he took his phone and was about to hit speed dial one when the phone rang. "Sammy! What the hell, what do you think you're doing?" 

"I'm helping, what do you think I'm doing?" Sam's voice sounded tired through the phone. 

"Well I'm going to kick your ass when I get there and you better stay on the phone until I get there." Dean picked up his pack. "Let me guess, you managed to dig those two up?" He knew that was what Sam would've done, even though he had a concussion. He also knew that by this time, Sam's head must be killing him. 

"Yes, just waiting for you to say the word." Sam was slurring his words and Dean wanted to hit something hard. 

"Do it and then sit your ass down, I'm on my way." Dean made sure he had all of his stuff and then started to jog out of the building. He knew where the cemetery was and could only hope that he would be able to find Sam quickly. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Sam had trouble striking the match, he had started to shiver when he went to retrieve the hex bags from where he had buried them. With his hands shaking he kept on dropping the matches even before he could get them to light up. He had already felt through all of his pockets but couldn't find a single lighter. He tried again and cursed as he failed again. "So fucking useless, can't even strike a match," he mumbled and tried again. He was so tired and wanted to do nothing more than to just curl up and sleep, but Dean told him to stay awake and he didn't want Dean to be even more disappointed in him than he already was. It took him another three tries before he managed the simple task. He looked on as the flames shot upwards and then he turned to the second grave. "Fuck," Sam cursed as something slammed into him. He didn't have to turn to knew that it was the ghost of Milton on his back. It seemed like the doctor just had it in for him. He tried to throw the man off, but he had used up all his energy and the dead doctor managed to flip him over onto his back with ease. Even before Sam could land on his back cold hands draped around his neck and started to squeeze. 

Sam gasped for air, the pressure on his throat increased by the second. He tried to buck up, but his strength was diminished and the dark spots once again started to dance around his eyes. He thought he could hear Dean calling to him, but things dimmed and then there was only darkness. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Dean moved with ease through the graves and spotted the yellow glow of flames in front of him. He was about to call out to Sam when he saw something slam into his brother. "Fuck!" Dean yelled and grabbed the shotgun. He was out of range and had to get closer. He yelled as he ran and when he got near enough he shouted Sam's name again and at the same time pulled the trigger. The ghost disappeared and Dean ran to where his brother was laying on the ground. 

"Sammy," Dean said as he got to his knees. "Sammy, come on, babe, open your eyes." Even in the dim light of the flames could he see the new bruises that marked Sam's skin. "Come on, Sammy, wake up." Dean shook Sam again and then cursed as the freaking ghost appeared before him. He reached for his weapon but then Kurtz appeared and tackled the first ghost to the ground. Dean knew he had to act quickly. He found his lighter, flicked it and dropped it into the second grave. Dean watched the apparition go up in flames and disappear forever. 

"Sammy," Dean kneeled again. "Come on, baby brother, it's time you wake up." He got no response and knew it was time to get Sam out of here. He looked up and saw Kurtz in front of him. "I know Sam promised you peace, but I need to get him to a hospital. I promise we'll come back." 

Kurtz looked at the two men in front of him and nodded once. "I'll wait, patiently." With those words he dissolved into nothingness. 

Dean cradled Sam to his chest and then heaved him up in a fireman's carry. He hated the way Sam's breathing sounded and knew that Sam's throat was starting to swell shut. He had to get Sam to the nearest hospital. He would not let Sam die. "Hold on, Sammy. Please hold on." 


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Four Days Later**

Sam sighed as he leaned back against the leather seat of the Impala. He couldn't believe how weak he still felt even after four days of laying in a hospital bed and doing nothing. 

"You okay, babe?" Dean asked as he started the engine. 

Sam nodded once. He was under strict orders from the doctor not to use his voice unless it was of upmost importance. It still felt to him as if he was in a daze. He couldn't remember anything of his first day in the hospital; the second only came in flash images. The third was better and that's when he started to get angsty and wanted to get out of bed but Dean put his foot down and refused to let him go. Sam even tried to tell him that he could sign himself out AMA, but Dean just gave him _that_ look and Sam knew that Dean wouldn't allow it. He had huffed and rolled his eyes, but stayed one day longer in the too short bed. 

"Dean?" Sam's voice croaked as Dean turned left instead of right at the intersection where their motel was. 

"Don't use your voice, Sammy." Dean smiled as he placed his hand on Sam's thigh. "I got a surprise for you." Dean didn't elaborate on the surprise but kept on driving. He looked over and smiled again as he saw Sam's eyes drooping. He took his one hand from the steering wheel and pulled on Sam so that the younger man's head was lying in his lap. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there." 

Dean drove in silence, not even bothering placing a tape in the radio for some music. He looked down and stroked Sam's hair. He hated seeing Sam in that hospital bed. He still could see Sam's blue lips by the time he managed to get them to the hospital. He never loved hospitals, neither of them did, but this time around he couldn't be happier with the treatment Sam received. They were on top of their game and he'd be forever grateful to them. 

It was one of the nursing staff who told him about a small cabin about two miles on the other side of the Strouds Run State Park and after he made some enquiries he'd manage to rent the cabin for the next few days. Since it was in the off season he knew it would be quiet and he would get the chance to talk to Sam. He'd been too harsh on Sam and he knew that Sam was beginning to think that Dean no longer wanted him around and that couldn't have been further from the truth. It was high time for one large _chick flick moment_.

Dean woke Sam up as he parked the Impala in front of the cabin. He was impressed with what he saw. It was a double story cabin with a small front porch. It was build on a bit of a hill and they had a great view of the surrounding woods. "Sammy, time to wake up." He kept on running his fingers through Sam's hair and smiled as Sam mumbled in a raspy voice about being tired and kept his eyes closed. 

"I know you're tired, but you're going to love it here. You can get some more sleep as soon as we're inside." He waited patiently for Sam to open his eyes and to sit up. He placed his finger on Sam's lips when he saw Sam wanted to talk. "We're on the other side of the Strouds Park and we're staying here for a few days until you're throat is completely healed up." 

Sam got out of the car and looked around. It was really peaceful. He looked at the cabin and raised a brow and cocked his head. 

"Yes, we can afford it. I made some money on a pool game." Dean explained as he pulled their duffels from the trunk and headed up to the cabin. "Come on, let's go see how it looks inside," he stepped onto the porch and opened the door. The ground floor consisted of an open plan living room - kitchen combination with a door to the one side which he suspected held the bathroom. Sturdy stairs wound up to the second floor where the bedroom would be. "Let me put this in the bedroom, make yourself comfortable." He indicated with his head to the couch. 

Sam rolled his eyes, but did as Dean suggested and sighed as he leaned back into the comfortable couch. He loved the deep earthy colors that were used to decorate the interior of the cabin. Not only did it blend into the surrounding area, but it gave a warm homey feeling to the place. Sam looked on as Dean came down the stairs and sat down next to him. He was surprised when Dean pulled him closer and hugged him hard. 

"You gave me quite a scare there, Sammy." Dean sounded tired. 

Sam opened his mouth to apologize, but once again Dean placed his finger over his lips. 

"You're not going to say you're sorry. It wasn't your fault." He shrugged his shoulders. "Although I do wish I could do something about all of those fucking bastards who always wants to strangle you. I don't know what their fascination is with your neck. It seems that they don't know that it belongs to me." Dean grinned as he leaned in and kissed Sam on the still too visible bruises around his neck. "I'm the only one who has the right to mark your neck; I hate it when there are marks there that weren't made by me." 

Sam arched into Dean's kiss. He loved it when Dean became a bit possessive. He sighed as Dean cupped his face and started to kiss him deeply on the mouth. He surrendered and let Dean take control of the kiss. Sam leaned into Dean and let his hands run over Dean's body. It's been some time since they had kissed like this. He couldn't even remember the last time they made love, or even when they just had some rough sex. Things really had gone to hell in a hand basket after the Roosevelt incident. Both men gasped as they had to come up for air. 

"Sammy," Dean breathed hard. "Fuck, I missed this." He traced Sam's face with his fingers and his eyes grew dark as he traced Sam's swollen lips and the other man started to suck and nip on his fingers. He smiled and pressed two fingers in Sam's mouth, groaning as Sam suckled harder. "Love when you do that, Sam." Dean pulled his fingers back and looked on as Sam started to chase after them. "Such a fucking tease," his voice sounded gruff as he pulled his fingers free and kissed Sam hard, teeth catching Sam's bottom lip and nipping it hard. "Mine," he growled and pushed Sam backwards so that he could cover Sam's body with his own. 

"Dean," Sam whispered. He bucked up as Dean's hands grabbed at his jeans and started to undo the button before lowering the zip. He gasped as Dean cupped his cock and his brother's palm pressed up against him and fondled him hard. "Please," his voice was scratchy. He moaned as Dean's mouth found his again and kissed him again, robbing him of his words. 

Dean could feel how hard Sam was against his hand. His own cock strained against his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to sink into Sam, but first he wanted to take care of Sam's aching need. He hadn't planned for this, he had first wanted to talk, to clear what was wrong between them, but maybe this is what they needed more. "You gonna come for me, Sam, with me stroking you to completion just like this, not even taking your cock out." Dean smiled as Sam shivered beneath him. "Just like this Sammy, just like this." He kept on palming Sam's cock. He let his thumb slide over the already dampened head and pressed harder against the bulge as Sam gasped against his mouth. 

Sam couldn't help but shiver as Dean spoke to him. He ached for Dean's touch and knew that he would be able to come just like this as Dean said. Already he could feel the tightening sensation at his balls and since it had been a while since Dean touched him like this, he knew he would not last long. "Dean," he gasped out his brother's name as Dean's thumb found the sensitive head of his cock again and groaned as his release came out of nowhere and slammed into him. 

"Fuck," Dean groaned as Sam's cock erupted beneath his hand. He kept on stroking Sam hard, milking his prick for each drop as Sam rocked beneath him, his eyes closed in ecstasy. "So beautiful, Sammy. So perfect." Dean kissed Sam again and again, each time moving lower until his face was pressed into Sam's crotch. "Gonna lick you clean and them I'm going to take my own release inside of you." He whispered the words against Sam's skin as he pulled the wet boxers down and latched onto Sam's cock. 

"Dean!" Sam rasped out as his lover's mouth covered the sensitive head of his cock and started to leak at the cum-covered slit. "Fuck," he bucked upwards and placed his hand on Dean's head in an attempt to pull him off, but found himself pressing Dean's head down, wanting more. 

Dean hummed around Sam's cock as he felt Sam pressing him down. He loved giving head and had no problem in taking Sam deeper. He could keep Sam's cock in his mouth for hours on end, just letting it rest on his tongue and suckling on it whenever he felt like it. The fact that he had no gag reflex made him want to always take Sam as deep as possible. Dean smiled around Sam's cock when Sam began to moan. His brother's cock was always sensitive after an explosive release like he just experienced now, but Dean couldn't help but keep on tormenting him. 

"Dean, Dean. Please, fuck, please." Sam tried to push Dean off, but his brother remained glued to his cock. He shivered at the almost painful sensations that kept on travelling up his body. "Please," he whispered and then sighed as Dean lifted his head. "Fuck," he smiled and closed his eyes for a second. 

"Not yet, but we'll get there." Dean had managed to rid Sam of his jeans and boxers before he moved up Sam's body again and kissed him once more. "Want you." Dean's eyes were filled with lust, but even more with love. 

Sam nodded and immediately came to his feet when Dean pulled him up. He didn't mind as Dean pulled him up the stairs and saw little of the bedroom as Dean nudged him down on the bed and started kissing and stroking him all over again. 

Dean kissed Sam and then placed his fingers in Sam's mouth, letting Sam suck on his fingers again as he let his mouth travelled lower again. This time he nibbled and lapped at Sam's nipples, loving the way they grew hard beneath his onslaught. He moved lower, kissing Sam's flat stomach and then once again worshipping Sam's cock before he lifted Sam's legs over his shoulders, spread Sam's cheeks wide and lapped at Sam's most intimate place. 

"Dean," Sam bucked hard and then started to moan as Dean's talented tongue swept over his taint. Dean used broad strokes over Sam's hole, before blowing lightly over the hole and then with the point of his tongue pressed into the muscle, groaning to himself as the muscle gave way letting him inside. 

Sam was a bumbling mess. He had no idea what he was saying, not even giving a damn that he wasn't supposed to use his voice, but he just had to let Dean know that what he was doing was driving Sam crazy. He fisted the sheets and bit into his bottom lip, tasting the drop of blood that formed there. "Dean, Dean," he repeated his brother's name over and over as the other man worked him open. 

Dean pushed a finger in next to his tongue and started to prep Sam even more. It had been a while since he had penetrated Sam and he would not take a chance and risk Sam getting torn. He knew Sam was going to be tight, not only because of the long period that had gone by, but also because the only lube they had was spit. 

"Dean, please, please." Sam's voice was strained; he could feel his throat burning and knew that after this he would have no voice at all. 

Dean took pity on Sam and pushed in another digit, scissoring his fingers as he pressed past the muscle. He could feel how tight Sam was around his fingers and could already imagine how Sam's channel was going to feel around his cock. He withdrew his fingers, pressed them into Sam's mouth as he spit into his other hand and dragged the wetness over Sam's hole. "Make them nice and wet, babe. This is our only lube." 

Sam groaned, took Dean's fingers deeper into his mouth and sucked hard at them. He moaned as Dean withdrew them, they dripped with saliva and then arched up as Dean pushed them back into his hole. 

"So beautiful, Sam. Wish you could see how your hole is stretched around my fingers; I can't wait to get my prick in there. I need to take you hard, to make my cock split you as I slam into you." Dean stroked his cock and smeared the pre-cum over his shaft that gathered at the tip in an attempt to slick things up a bit more.

"Now, Dean. Please." Sam's voice was a mere whisper. 

Dean didn't respond with words, but lifted Sam's legs even higher, lined himself up and pressed forward. "Fuck," he groaned. Sam was even tighter than he had imagined. It felt almost like the time he popped Sam's cherry. Dean's hand that he had around his shaft trembled as he slowly pressed forward and then pushed back again, opening Sam so very slowly. He loved the way his cock head disappeared inside and then reappeared again, each time going in a bit deeper and deeper. He inched into Sam slowly and both men sighed as he was finally balls deep into Sam's hole. He could feel Sam vibrating around him, his own cock pulsating with the need to move, but he would wait until Sam told him he could move. 

Sam could feel Dean within him. He'd forgotten how full he felt when Dean was settled inside of him like this. That feeling would never grow old. The pain that he felt when Dean pushed into him was slowly starting to give way to that feeling of pure bliss that always stayed with him for so long. He could feel Dean's cock pulsing and he wanted to feel Dean reaching his peak inside of him, making Dean spill his hot seed inside him, marking him in such a primitive way. "Move," Sam mouthed the word as no sound escaped from his throat, but Dean was watching him and Sam knew Dean read his lips. 

Dean started to move the moment Sam mouthed the word. He knew Sam had overused his voice, but that was something he would take care of later, right now he had a more primal urge to fulfill. His hips slammed forward as he pistoned hard into Sam, he set a fast pace, knowing that it was what they both needed. His own sighs and moans filled the air as he chased his orgasm. When Sam's eyes nearly rolled over in his head Dean knew he'd managed to hit Sam's prostate and he kept at the same angle, nudging the gland again and again, knowing that the pleasure would build up for Sam, driving Sam to the same high as he himself was aiming for. Dean dragged his hands over Sam's legs that were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His own body glistened with sweat as he picked up the pace. He reached between Sam's legs and fisted his lover's cock. Sam was rock hard again and he stroked Sam hard at the same pace he was setting inside of him. "Come for me, Sam. Now!" His hips bucked and his balls drew up as his orgasm exploded deep within Sam, his seed coating the inner walls of Sam's body. 

Sam arched higher and higher as Dean's cock drove into him. He loved the feeling of Dean's hand around his cock, and as Dean urged him on he found his peak and let wave after wave of pleasure wash over him. He was aware of Dean lowering his legs and moving their bodies so that they were laying face to face, Dean still nestled inside of him. "Missed this," he mouthed the words again as he lowered his head so that it rested against Dean's shoulder. 

Dean sighed in content. He knew that Sam's body would expel his cock naturally, but until then he was satisfied in staying as they were. He lifted his hand and stroked Sam's back. "Missed this as well." He kissed Sam on the top of the head and then closed his eyes. He knew they still had to talk, but for now they could get some rest. They still had a few days left to sort everything out. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

Dean handed Sam his cup of coffee before he took the seat next to him. They were both well rested and Dean knew it was time to talk to his brother. "Sammy, we need to talk." Dean wanted to kick himself as he could see how Sam immediately tensed up. He placed his cup next to him on the floor and moved his legs so that Sam would fit in between them. "Come here," he guided Sam to his chest and held him close. "I need you to listen to me and not say anything until I'm done. Can you do that for me?" 

Sam sighed as he leaned in against Dean's chest. He still didn't have a voice so he only nodded his head. He had no idea what Dean wanted to say to him, he could only hope that Dean would give him another chance. 

"We've been through a tough few months, babe. What happened in Illinois was hard on both of us." Dean cleared his throat. "I was hard on you." He stroked Sam's chest as Sam tensed up yet again. "I know you didn't mean to shoot me, Sammy. I know you would never hurt me. I know you feel guilty about what happened and that you feel that I don't trust you, but that's not true, babe. I trust you, I've always trusted you and I always will trust you. You're my life, my reason for being alive and I will never give up on you." Dean turned Sam's face so that he could get a better look at his brother. "I want you in my life; I need you in my life. If you think that disappearing out of my life would be better for me, you're wrong. I love you Sammy Winchester and although we may fight or disagree sometimes with one another, I will never give you up. You belong to me - you're mine, for now and forever." 

Sam had no idea on what to say. Dean never said much, there was a reason why he didn't do _chick flick_ moments. But it was in moments like this that Sam realized how much Dean really loved him and how lucky he was to be part of Dean's life. "I'm sorry," he started to whisper but was cut short when Dean kissed him hard. 

"I know, and I'm sorry as well." Dean kissed Sam again. "Just tell me you won't leave me." 

Sam smiled. "I won't leave you." 

"Good, let's go and have some more amazing sex." Dean grinned and yanked Sam off the couch and pulled him up the stairs again. They still had a few things to sort out, but for now they have said enough. They could talk again later - much later. 

****

oo0oo -- SPN_J2_XMAS_2013 -- oo0oo

**One Week Later: Athens Hospital For The Insane, Cemetery**

Sam stood to the one side of the grave with Dean to his side. They had dug up the bones of Francis Kurtz and had already poured the salt over the remains. Sam had the lighter fluid in his hand and Dean stood with the matches. Both men were waiting for something. Dean took a step closer to Sam as the temperature dropped around them. He had the shotgun in his other hand. 

The ghost of Kurtz appeared before them. For a moment he looked angered but then he bowed his head at them. "You have returned." 

"I promised you we would." Sam smiled. "Are you ready to leave this place?" He looked at the hospital that he could barely make out in the dark. 

"I am. I want to go home. I want to see my family again. I have been separated from them far too long." Kurtz looked at the two men before him. "Thank you." He turned and walked to the edge of the grave. "I am ready." 

Dean nodded to Sam and waited for Sam to pour the lighter liquid over the remains and then he lit the match and dropped it into the grave. Both men stood and looked as Francis Kurtz erupted in flames and within moments dissolved into nothingness. They waited next to the grave for the bones to burn out before they slowly filled the grave up again. 

"I have to say, that's one ghost I actually could've liked." Dean smiled as he hugged Sam close. 

Sam smiled. "Kurtz would've made a good friend. Let's get out of here. I for one had enough of mental hospital for a long time." 

"Couldn't agree more, Sammy." Dean took Sam's hand in his as they picked up their shovels, their shotguns and made their way back to the Impala. They still had a father to look for and then there was the family business to take care of as well - saving people, hunting things. 

**The End**


End file.
